


Random Writing Event 2

by ArtisticVicu



Category: Original Work, Stargate Universe
Genre: Alternate Reality, Ambush, Apocalypse, Deaf Character, Death, Drabble, Gen, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, M/M, Magic, Nightmares, Nonbinary Character, Original Character(s), Physical Disability, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prose Poem, RP based, RPG, Random fanfic, School Event, Target, Test of Courage, Vent Piece, canyon travel, master's spy, multiple stories, poetic summary, returning a unicorn, simulation error, skeleton character, theatre interrupted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:31:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 12,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23415985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtisticVicu/pseuds/ArtisticVicu
Summary: Each chapter is a different story; chapters 5 and 8 go together.Every item title is the given prompt. They were either a blended genre or a word, all with word limits.





	1. Flash

She flinched away from the crowd. She noticed she hadn’t been the only one to flinch. Her companions had as well and the male was not looking pleased. She reached out to him and he offered her a tight smile as he gave her hand a brief squeeze.  
  
The crowd was going nuts but it was clear many were forgetting the rules in place. She forego the crowd with her companions and started for the end of the walkway. Security swarmed past them in the opposite direction. There was the sound of a megaphone activating behind them but the announcement was cut off as the door closed behind them.  
  
It seemed liked a curse. As soon as the door clicked shut, they were assaulted by light. She kicked back into her male companion, their other companion pressing close. Her male companion wrapped his arms around them both but he was in a worse state than they were. There was an altercation as people rushed forward to shelter them. One of the older men that had rushed forward placed himself directly in front of her, his expression full of concern.  
  
“Are you alright?” he asked softly, others closing up the gaps to shelter them. She shuddered but nodded, glancing at her companions. Her gaze settled on her male companion as she verbally replied. “I’m ok. But we need a quiet, secluded room. I don’t think he can last much longer.”  
  
The entire group around them seemed to come to a non-verbal agreement in an instant and hands reached out but paused before touching. She smiled softly, appreciating the forethought by those around them. The older man that had spoken is the one to ask, “Is it alright if we touch you?”  
  
She reached out to take the older man’s hand, watching as her female companion did the same, but they both looked at their male companion. He had his head down, his hands gripping whatever fabric was against their lower backs. She met the older man’s gaze, offering, “Don’t touch him. We’ve got him.”  
  
Some of the hands pulled back as the older man nodded and placed himself at her side, careful not to touch her male companion as he wrapped an arm around her. One of his fellows did the same for her female companion and the rest created a sort of protective barrier around them.  
  
The walk was short but it was appreciated as the mass of the group chatted as if there was nothing wrong, joking and commenting on mundane things not connected to the panic. By the time they reached the room, her male companion was brokenly conversing with someone walking beside him.  
  
The room was vast and sparsely furnished. She realized it was one of the main halls that was being unused. That much space being empty with no one there beyond her, her two companions, and their entourage was surprisingly soothing. Her male companion even released his hold on them and she watched as he stepped passed them towards the furniture at the far end of the hall. The older man stepped away, removing his touch as his counter did the same to her female companion. She smiled appreciatively to the older man before following her two companions.  
  
Her male companion flopped into one of the chairs before their female companion settled in his lap, curling against his chest. She, in turn, merely grabbed another chair and spun it around so that she was sitting backwards in it. The older man did the same across from her as the others either grabbed a chair, a piece of the floor, or just stood about.  
  
“So you three are the reason for the ‘No Flash Photography’ rule?” asked one of the men that had been leading the group and keeping conversation light with bad puns and getting reamed by the others. In point, a forgettable man in a simple suit smacked him upside the head. He merely grinned up at the man with a grin.  
  
She nodded, answering with a shrug, “Trauma just doesn’t go away overnight.”  
  
She watched her companions out of the corner of her eye curl closer to each other. She couldn’t blame them.


	2. Thunderous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These were all from an event I did. I no longer have access to what the event was originally labeled and am simply pulling from my tumblr archive. Every item title is the given prompt. They were either a blended genre or a word, all with word limits.

She reached blindly for anything to grab as her legs went out from under her. Hands reached for her and she flinched away. This caused her to lose her hold on whatever had been keeping her upright and she felt her knees collide with the ground as her other palm scraped against the hard surface. More hands, more trying to get away.  
  
She recoiled from those that had gathered, catching sight of a figure parting the crowd, suddenly opening up space around her. She blinked, her vision clearing and focusing on blue eyes that were all too familiar. She reached out to him but her hands were shaking. He intertwined their fingers and pressed his forehead against hers. She grasped at his shirt with her free hand, pulling them together. His other arm wrapped around her and held her close. She closed her eyes, leaning into him and allowing him to support her as he had done for so many years.  
  
She could feel through where his forehead was pressed against hers the vibrations from him talking. To whom, she didn’t know.  
  
When she opened them again, he hadn’t moved. He was watching her and pulled back enough to give her a soft smile, one that spoke a thousand words. He released her hand to run his fingers through her hair, his other hand slipping out from behind her to flicker in her line of sight. She leaned into his touch, watching him sign in their invented sign language. He told her of all who was there, of what had happened. He talked and talked, soothing her there on the hospital room floor with a hand in her hair in a veiled way of keeping her gaze from roaming around the room.  
  
He talked of the day she had fallen into her coma, how he had been impressed with how much she had been able to shift with that horrid chemical in her system, how her companion had suffered no major injuries as she had taken the brunt of the landing. He went on to tell her how they kicked the bad guy’s butts with a flourish, gaining a soft smile out of her. He beamed, going on and exaggerating the final battle as they waited for the medevac.  
  
His expression turned somber as he spoke of those first 24 hours at the hospital. She was in the OR for 18 hours as they did what they could for the numerous injuries she had sustained. His calm mask cracked when he informed her she had coded twice. She pressed a bit more into his hand to reassure him, her hands pressing against his thighs.  
  
He signed that he was so grateful for what they were.  
  
She couldn’t help but agree.  
  
His expression turned bitter. He commented on how everything just seemed to get worse after that. It was bad enough she had been declared in a coma a few days later, it seemed like the universe was against them. She had coded twice in one day and another time two days later. Her liver failed due to the chemical’s damage. She had nearly asphyxiated on blood when a blood vessel ruptured in her right lung – the same lung that had been punctured at the top of the whole mess that also collapsed three days after the asphyxiation scare. Finally, after the chemical had been completely flushed out, the damage started to repair itself and she had woken up whole and ok.  
  
His expression fell. Well, as whole as she could be with the given circumstances. He rubbed her ear gently, gesturing in question ‘You doing ok?’  
  
She shook her head, pressing into her twin’s chest once more. It took a bit of maneuvering but eventually he was propped back up against something and she was curled up in his lap. The others still in the room were on the edge of her awareness as she settled against her nearly identical twin’s chest, feeling the vibration of his voice as he spoke to someone over her head.  
  
‘What’s wrong?’ he signed patiently, encouragingly, as he turned his full focus back onto her.  
  
She shifted enough to sign in return with shaking fingers, ‘The silence is thunderous.’


	3. Numbers

One. Two. Three. Four.  
They counted because there was nothing more for them to do.  
Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen.  
They started small because that was all they knew.  
Twenty-nine. Thirty. Thirty-one. Thirty-two.  
Slowly but surely their numbers grew larger and slowly but surely their mind got stronger.  
Forty-eight. Forty-nine. Fifty. Fifty-one.  
They wondered how many they would count before one chose them.  
Sixty-three. Sixty-four. Sixty-five. Sixty-six.  
Would they be alone with ridiculously large numbers?  
Seventy-five. Seventy-six. Seventy-seven. Seventy-eight.  
They could make neither heads nor tails of the thought.  
Eighty-nine. Ninety. Ninety-one. Ninety-two.  
Maybe they’ll start over.  
Ninety-seven. Ninety-eight. Ninety-nine.


	4. Comedy/Horror

His grip on the flashlight increased as he tried to swallow. The hallway before them was dark and there was an ominous feeling even just looking. The group pressed close to his back.  
  
“Man, why are schools so creepy at night?” one of the boys near the back of the group whined.  
  
“I don’t like this,” the girl against his back muttered. He chanced a look at her as one of the boys standing with him flicked their own flashlight on. Her gaze was ahead even though she was almost completely hidden behind him.  
  
He offered her a soft smile. “This is the last hallway. We’ll get out of this just fine.”  
  
The boy that had turned on his flashlight hummed in affirmation. “There’s nothing to be frightened about.” The boy looked at him. The boy’s glasses hid whatever his eyes were giving away. He cursed the boy’s perfect poker face. “Do you want to take the lead, Andrew, or shall I?”  
  
“I’m take lead, Neal,” he replied, offering a soft smile. “After all, you’re words are pretty accurate. There’s nothing to be frightened about.”  
  
“Says the two fearless!” someone complained from the back of the group. Andrew didn’t bother to glance back as he took the first step forward. A hush fell over the group beyond a few whimpers here and there. Neal matched his pace and the group fell into step behind them. It was slow going. Andrew was growing concerned and a glance at Neal assured him Neal was thinking the same thing.  
  
“How likely is it that this hallway went untouched?” Andrew asked in a low voice. The girl that had been pressed up against his back had moved to his other arm, basically placing him between the girl and Neal.  
  
“Highly unlikely,” Neal commented, his hand tightening around the gun in his hand. “We’d best prepare for an ambush.”  
  
Andrew stopped to pull his gun from his back when there was a noise from up ahead. They all froze, listening intently. It happened again and Andrew pulled his gun around.  
  
The swarm came much quicker than he had anticipated. He let loose a barrage as he pushed the girl sideways, Neal bringing up his own gun and firing. A good number in the group screamed as those with weapons wielded them. It was utter mass chaos and Andrew shouted over the noise, “Back towards the stairs!”  
  
The group slowly gave up ground as Andrew, the girl, and Neal were cut off from the rest of them. Andrew threw a wild look at the group, catching an underclassman’s gaze. The boy looked to be freshman but his gaze was sharp, clear, and that was all Andrew needed. “Try two levels down! Book it if you can! The exits just at the other end of the hall!”  
  
The boy nodded and took control. The noise was becoming too much for Andrew to relay anything else.  
  
“Neal!”  
  
Andrew’s head snapped around, staring in horror as Neal went down. The girl next to Andrew moved to aid him but Andrew wrapped a numb arm around her, shooting two zombies in the face. “We can’t, Lily!” he shouted, his throat tight. “There’s too much!”  
  
“We can’t leave him!” she screamed, taking out five zombies in her fear and her anger.  
  
He couldn’t argue with that, didn’t want to argue with that. Swiftly turning her about, he quickly reloaded before he started to clear a path to Neal. It was slow going but they eventually got to the point where Neal had been. It was Lily that pointed at the classroom. They were able to clear the way and make it in. They barred the door shut and Andrew stepped towards the center of the room as Lily stayed pressed against the barred door.  
  
“Neal?” Andrew called, worry lacing his voice. There was a sound on the other side of the teacher’s desk and Andrew stepped carefully around it. “Neal!”  
  
Andrew came to Neal’s side, his hands instantly shooting out and checking the lanky teen over. Neal tried blocking his attempt but there was no real intent behind it. He did give a goodhearted glar1e at the burlier teen. “I’m fine, Andrew. It was just for show.”  
  
Andrew’s hands stilled, before he blinked down at his gun. It took a moment of staring before his brain registered he had a paint gun slung around his shoulder. He looked at the pistol that Neil was sporting and saw that it too was a paint gun. He suddenly burst out laughing, his entire body shaking. “Holy cow,” he breathed between laughs. He watched Neal chuckle right along with him, rubbing at some fake blood on his face.  
  
“What did you think?”  
  
Andrew nearly jumped out of his skin as Neal brought up the pistol out of reflex. Thankfully he wasn’t trigger happy as the class president for the sophomore class smiled down at them expectantly. She grinned, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Can we create a haunted house, or what?”  
  
There was a snort from Lily. Andrew looked to her to see her expression alive in a way that he hadn’t seen in a while. He looked down at Neal and saw the same look.  
  
“That was sure impressive, Robins,” Lily commented, walking over. She placed a heavy hand on Robins shoulder and brought her face close to the smaller girl’s, her expression blank and yet murderous at the same time. “Don’t do it again.”  
  
Robins just grinned. “Oh, so going to. I think we could make some real bank with this stuff.”  
  
“Just no more students as guinea pigs, Robins,” Neal commented, standing as he pressed his glasses higher up his nose.  
  
“Yeah,” Andrew added, beaming. “We don’t need more ghosts wandering the halls.”  
  
Robins gave a bark of a laugh as Lily shot him a glare. It was totally worth it as he saw Neal trying hard not to laugh out of the corner of his eye.


	5. Action/Historic

He pulled hard on the reins, the horse turning hard with the gesture. The animal’s hooves scrapped the cliff edge as the path narrowed drastically. He pushed the horse on, not chancing a look back to see if they were still being pursued.  
  
The ledge they traveled on began to narrow so much that he was forced to pull back on the horse’s speed. He let the animal settle as a walk, now taking the time to glance back.  
  
There was nothing but the dust the hooves had kicked up and he let out a breath of relief. He was anxious but it was better than being caught. Looking around, he took in the canyon before looking towards the sky.  
  
The sky was still striking blue and the sun had not shifted to the western half of the sky yet, meaning he had a good number of hours before he had to start looking for a place to camp. He turned his attention to the trail, looking for what his companion had told him about.  
  
It was quite some time before he had caught sight of it and even more time before he even reached it. When his horse’s hooves were stepping off the trail that led to the floor of the canyon, the sun had already passed so far into the western half of the sky that there was barely any sun touching the eastern wall of the canyon.  
  
He dismounted and led the horse along, his gaze searching. He took a moment to allow the horse to drink from the river and he drank from his canteen. It was while he was drinking that he caught sight of it. A couple hundred feet off was a cave tucked into the wall in such a way that anyone that happened past wouldn’t necessarily see it easily. As soon as the horse had its fill of the water, he walked the animal across the river and towards the cave on the other bank.  
  
The cave was dry, like most of the air and land around the canyon, but it was safer than being out in the open. He unbridled the horse and hunkered down for the night. It would be a long one but the cave was deep enough for him to not worry about the light from his fire being seen.  
  
That is, till there was a snap outside the cave entrance.


	6. Romance/Mystery

The mechanism gave a soft click as he deactivated the lock and it was with careful hands that the contraption was removed. His hands were on her in an instant, soft, soothing, and concerned. She offered him a soft smile as a way to sooth his concern.  
  
There wasn’t any emotion behind it.  
  
“I am fine, Ekrom,” she offered, his name feeling weird on her tongue. But he had ordered her to use his first name, so she did to please him.  
  
“I shouldn’t have sent you there.”  
  
She tipped her head to the side. “It was necessary to get the information you needed.”  
  
He shook his head vehemently. “I could have gotten it a different way.”  
  
She righted her head, a soft frown on her lips. “I am fine, Ekrom,” she repeated. “No harm befell me.”  
  
“But you could have!” he barked. A look of shock then guilt passed over his features but she merely blinked at him in response. He rubbed at his face, replying gently, “I’m sorry. I’m not mad at you, Isabeau.”  
  
She didn’t respond and merely watched him as he calmed down before touching her neck and shoulders again. “Are you sure you are unharmed?”  
  
“Yes, Ekrom. No harm befell me.”  
  
His hands stilled at her neck and confusion pressed against her usually emotionless mind. Her first instinct was to hide it but Ekrom has asked her to show more emotions, to become more human, so she let the confusion show on her face. “Ekrom?” she asked, her voice still as flat as ever.  
  
He seemed to be debating something but, since he was not voicing what it was, she did not offer her opinion on it. Eventually, he removed his hands from her neck and she noted that the place where his hands had rested seemed colder than they should have been. This time, her confusion showed unwillingly on her face. “Ekrom?” she asked again, this time her voice taking on an inflection.  
  
He tried to offer her a smile. It didn’t work. “I’m sorry, Isabeau. Truly, I am.”  
  
“What for?”  
  
“For sending you there.” He ran his hand through her hair. “You’ve reverted back.”  
  
She frowned. Confusion just seemed to be the emotion that was sticking with her that day. “I do not understand. Am I not behaving properly?”  
  
She couldn’t decipher the look on his face. It was like he was in pain and yet sad at the same time. Why was he in pain and sad? Was he hurt? Was someone he cared about hurt?  
  
“You are,” he assured, cupping her cheek. “But you no longer have the light in your eyes you had gained before going in.”  
  
Her frown deepened. She didn’t understand. She was doing as she was supposed to. How had she changed? She hadn’t been that long from home.  
  
 _Home_. She blinked, her cheek suddenly cold. She reached up and touched her cheek, only for her fingers to come away wet. She blinked again, realizing that she was crying. But why was she crying? She looked to Ekrom again as something she could only label as panic squeezed her heart.  
  
His lips were against hers before she could speak his name, a chaste kiss that only brought more tears and a heart-wrenching sob from her chest. He pulled her close as a flood of emotions rocked her.  
  
It all scared her, all of it. The swirling vortex of emotions was too much to handle but Ekrom had his arms secure around her and was speaking softly to her. It was quite some time before her sobs settled into soft hiccups before cutting out completely. She looked up at him as he pulled back. He pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to her. She quickly cleaned her face, holding the soiled handkerchief in her lap. Confusion was still a large emotion she was feeling but it was mixed with relief now.  
  
He cupped her cheek again and drew her gaze to his. He kissed her softly again, asking against her lips, “Are you back, Isa?”  
  
She gave a small nod, though she voiced, “I…I think so. I’m just…still really confused.”  
  
He captured her lips for a third time, this one longer, deeper, and so full of love that she was drowning by the time he pulled away. She desperately wanted to stay drowning but they had a job to finish.  
  
“I’ll run some checks and see what kind of mind altercations they were using on you,” Ekrom stated, moving to step away.  
  
Her hand closed around his arm, her grip surprisingly strong but still easily broken. He looked to her and she was glad that she was feeling more than just confusion as she let her determination show on her face. “Ekrom.”  
  
The determination faltered as he looked at the arm she was holding onto. He covered her hand with his, giving her a soft, knowing smile. “I’m not going far, Isa. Promise.”  
  
She released his arm unwillingly. He briefly kissed her lips once more before walking over to the equipment.  
  
“Alright,” he stated, rolling up his sleeves. “Let’s get to work.”  
  
He looked to her, his gaze concerned. “You sure you want to do this?”  
  
She nodded. “While it’s still fresh.”  
  
He nodded and grabbed a tape recorder before walking over. He pressed record. “This is Detective Ekrom Newmets with information on the Reformation Project. With me is my Collared, Isabeau. She has willingly gone undercover for me to bring back information on the Reformation Project. These are her findings.”  
  
He held the recorder out to her and she met his gaze as she started to speak.  
  
“The Reformation Project is not what it seems.”


	7. Slice of Life/Science Fiction

08:00  
The alarm went off, filling the room with some song randomly chosen the night before. He looked towards the main room from the private bathroom, toothbrush still in his mouth. Stepping out, he smiled around the utensil at the sight of his partner currently burying himself deeper into the bedding. He tapped the alarm off and returned to the bathroom to finish up.  
  
Two minutes later, he stepped out and walked back over to the bed. He prodded his partner in the ribs, chiming, “Time to get up.”  
  
“Don’ wanna,” came the muffled comeback.  
  
His smile turned into a grin. “Are you sure about that?”  
  
He still found it highly entertaining that the grown man that was his partner had some very sensitive ribs when prodded right. There was an indignant squawk from his partner as the man rolled away from the offending appendages. He simply followed, pinning his partner to the mattress as he started a tickle war. He wasn’t overly ticklish himself but it did lead to some very pleasing things.  
  
14:00  
He looked towards the planet’s sun, shading his eyes to take in the sky. It was nice to be planet side for a while. He dropped his gaze to find his partner approaching him. He smiled at the man.  
  
“You sure about this?” his partner asked.  
  
He nodded. “It’s been quite a while since the last time and I’ve been itching to do it since we landed.”  
  
His partner dipped his head in acknowledgement. “Stay close, just in case.”  
  
He nodded again, starting for the treeline.  
  
18:00  
He watched as the last of the supplies were loaded up and transported back. All that remained to re-board the vessel were personnel. His partner walked up to his side, silent but a kind smile on his face. He returned it, not hesitating to take the man’s hand in his. His partner’s expression turns endearing and presses a kiss to his temple. He leans into the other, content as they waited for their turn to return to a decaying ship that had become home.  
  
20:00  
He wasn’t sure whose idea it had been to do karaoke and glanced down at the cup in his hand. While he might naturally have a high tolerance for the crap they were calling alcohol, he still found himself getting drunk in bursts. It was weird but he didn’t question it. His partner, on the other hand, was still a lightweight when it came to the stuff and constantly misjudges how much of the stuff could be consumed safely. Chuckling, he stood up and swayed, shaking off the effects of the latest surge of wasted. Slipping an arm around his partner’s chest, he pulled the fit man to his feet. He let his partner press against him when the other’s legs seemed to be a lot slower than the rest of him. His partner started ranting and raving, trying to get him to let the man stay and drink some more but this was so routine that he didn’t even need to fight his partner to get the man to walk with him.  
  
22:00  
He ran a hand through his damp hair, hand keeping the towel around his waist securely around his waist. There was a pleasant thrum running through his body and he couldn’t help but wear a goofy smile on his face as he watched his partner glare at the device in his hand.  
  
His partner glanced up at him, lowering the device with a soft smile. “You going to join me or just stand there and admire the view?”  
  
“Can’t do both?” he challenged as he stepped away from the doorframe towards his partner.  
  
His partner shrugged, putting the device on the nightstand to give him his full attention. “If you want to but you may end up freezing doing that.”  
  
He captured his partner’s lips in a chaste kiss before wandering over to what equated to their wardrobe. He dressed in his typical nightwear and clambered in beside his partner, settling against the mattress. “I think you forget that I’m a furnace.”  
  
“Not a chance I can forget that wonderful aspect.” His partner laid down, resting their head on his chest. He buried his hand in the other’s hair, content.  
  
03:00  
He came to struggling, phantom pain lashing through his body. Cold hands were holding his face and a familiar weight was settled on his abdomen. Cold sweat had drenched his body but he felt too hot in his own skin. He gripped at his partner’s hands on his face, whimpering as his partner pressed their foreheads together.  
  
“It’s alright,” the man uttered softly. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.”  
  
He barred his teeth in shame as he squeezed his eyes shut. He latched onto his partner, arms pressing the other flat against him and fingers clenching at the fabric of the man’s nightshirt. He pressed his face into the man’s chest. It took longer than normal for him to calm down and he could tell that his partner was concerned. He only held on tighter.  
  
“Which was it this time?” his partner asked, his voice barely a whisper.  
  
Shame washed through him but he spoke up anyways. After all, they had seen each other at their worst and their best. No need to hide from the other now.  
  
“I dreamt that you had been killed in front of me and I was thrown into a tank to be experimented on later.”  
  
08:00  
The alarm went off, filling the room with some song randomly chosen the night before. He looked towards the main room from the private bathroom, toothbrush still in his mouth. Stepping out, he smiled around the utensil at the sight of his partner currently burying himself deeper into the bedding. He tapped the alarm off and returned to the bathroom to finish up.  
  
The world flickered around him like a screen that lost image for an instant.  
  
He hadn’t even noticed.


	8. Western/Tragedy

He grabbed his gun before slowly edging his way towards the mouth of the cave. He hadn’t come this far to get ambushed by some animal.  
  
Turned out that it wasn’t an animal but a person and an injured one at that. He pressed the barrel of the gun to their head, instantly recognizing them as one of his pursuers.  
  
“Give me a good reason not to blow yer brains out right here,” he challenged in a drawl, his hard eyes not leaving the top of the stranger’s head.  
  
“Because then you would be rightfully committed, just for the wrong murder,” the stranger snarled, glaring up with striking blue eyes.  
  
It felt like hours to the both of them before he sighed and lowered the weapon. Finally taking in the stranger, he frowned. He squatted in the dirt next to the stranger as the other struggled to right themself. “What happen’ to ya?”  
  
“Your companion is what happened,” the stranger hissed. He wasn’t sure if it was due to the stranger’s anger or pain. He settled on both. “I somehow survived the fall down the side of the canyon.”  
  
His eyes narrowed but he wasn’t about to call bluff. The injuries he could see were not consistent with rolling down a canyon wall. He leaned forward and ignored how the stranger tensed. He grabbed the stranger’s arm and slung it over his shoulders before wrapping his arm around the slender frame. He hauled them both to their feet but the added weight and the stranger’s legs not behaving caused them to nearly fall into the dirt. He got a good handle and led the stranger into the depth of the cave.  
  
Night had settled fully when he finished patching the stranger up. He came to realize that the stranger was not much older than his oldest son and had a spirit that was admirable. As they settled in for the night, it was with terse voices they exchanged names.  
  
“Name’s Oliver.”  
  
“Dick,” the stranger replied.  
  
“What got you tangled up with that batch, Dick?”  
  
The stranger shrugged and shifted to turn his back to him. Oliver sighed and let the younger do as he pleased.  
  
Oliver at first regretted saving the younger man’s life. Dick wasn’t the best of conversationalists and they certainly didn’t see eye to eye on quite a lot. There were times where Oliver was tempted to just leave Dick in the dirt to die but he never managed to bring himself to do just that. Something always happened to either derail the conversation and the idea with it or their entire situation completely. Somehow Dick ended up being in as much danger as Oliver was.  
  
The younger man’s wounds were, thankfully, healing well and Oliver counted that as a blessing. As they settled in for their seventeenth night together, Oliver couldn’t help but voice his concern.  
  
“What ya goin’ to do once yer able to handle yerself on yer own, Dick?” Oliver challenged, though his voice stayed even.  
  
Dick shrugged. “Couldn’t tell you, old man. Being with you has somehow ended up labeling me as a traitor for whatever reason.”  
  
Oliver chuckled, dropping his gaze to the fire. “Ya know why they’re afta me?” Dick looked at him but didn’t answer. Oliver didn’t mind. As long as he had the young man’s attention. “They’re afta me because I helped some natives escape.”  
  
Dick sat up, frowning. Oliver merely glanced at him at the motion. “Escape from what?”  
  
“From death,” Oliver spoke easily. “They were gonna be killed just cuz they weren’t gonna give up their lands.”  
  
Dick shook his head. “Should have pegged you with being associated with savages.”  
  
Oliver gave a barking laugh. “Son, if ya think they’re the savages, ya have yer head on wrong.”  
  
Dick frowned at him.  
  
They travelled for another two months. Somewhere along the way the pair had gotten used to each other to the point when Dick had the change to leave, he merely purchased a second horse and continued riding with Oliver. Those two months had not been easy and the winter months looming ahead were going to be even harder but Oliver could tell that the younger man was changing, becoming a better man.  
  
They came across a tribe of natives just as the first snow fell. Dick watched in awe as Oliver was welcomed with open arms. There was tension when it came to associating with Dick but Oliver’s words soothed whatever unease the natives had.  
  
A week into their stay with the tribe they were attacked. It was utter chaos as the natives were massacred by white men. Oliver leapt into the fray without a second thought, being a great aid to the natives. Dick was less enthusiastic to jump in but Oliver watched as the younger man gained motivation when children started dying within his line of sight.  
  
The pair of men found themselves fighting side by side but it wasn’t to last. Oliver saw the attack aimed at Dick that Dick couldn’t see. Instinct drove his feet and he found himself taking the attack meant for Dick.  
  
Dick turned around at Oliver’s cry and he caught the older man. In the chaos, they were forgotten and Oliver silently counted it as a blessing. Dick’s full attention was on Oliver, though it was clear the younger man was flustered.  
  
“Just hang in there, Oliver,” Dick urged, his voice sounding thick to Oliver. “I’m gonna…I’ll patch you up and you’ll be right as rain.”  
  
That was a lie and they both knew it. Oliver grabbed at Dick’s hand, ordering, “Leave me. Go help the children get to safety.”  
  
“But–”  
  
“Go!” Oliver shoved at the younger man, spurring him forward. Oliver collapsed back into the dirt, noting belatedly the red smears he had left all over Dick. He hoped the younger man would forgive him as he succumbed to eternal sleep.


	9. Drama/Fantasy

The contents crashed to the floor as the table was overturned in his anger. “Leave me!” he bellowed, his wings out around him as his tail lashed around his feet. The servants and creatures scattered, leaving him alone in his private study. How could this have happened?! He lashed out in rage, destroying a good number of furniture. Books and paper flew about but he paid them no heed even as his magic picked everything up and tossed it about.  
  
One airborn book smacked him in the face and he grabbed at the accursed thing, ready to set it on fire for daring to collide with his face. But the magic for the spell dissipated as his curiosity for the book took precedence. In his hand was an old journal bound in brown leather. He recognized it for what it was even with the lack of markings because he used the same exact type of journal for his own studies. He had a shelf full of them that detailed his research and observations.  
  
After living for as long as he had, he had come to the conclusion that there was no such thing as coincidences. Righting a chair, he settled in it and let the journal fall open.  
  
He had just barely glanced over the page when the temptation to burn the damned thing returned. He snapped the book shut and threw it aside.  
  
“You think this is some sick joke giving me that book?!” he demanded of magic, even as it would never answer. “I do not need the reminder of just how much this _parallels_ what had happened _then_.”  
  
“Akakios?” a soft voice asked from the doorway  
  
The instinct to turn and lash out nearly surpassed his self control. Gritting his teeth, he forced his wings to close against his back and his tail to settle. He took a calming breath but the anger was still there beneath the surface. He looked to her, his red eyes apologetic. “Yes, Ariana?” he asked gently.  
  
“Are you going to come to bed?”  
  
His wings drooped as his gaze sought out the nearest clock. “Yes.” He returned his gaze to her as he approached her. “I should have been paying more attention to the time. I had not realized so much time had passed.”  
  
His hand cupped her cheek and she nuzzled his palm, her hands coming up to cover the appendage. “If there is anything I can do-”  
  
“This is not a matter you should be concerning yourself, Ari,” he urged, stepping close and pressing his lips to her forehead. “Please. Let only one of us be stressed about this.”  
  
She gave him a stern look. “I am your wive and the reigning Queen at your side. It is my privilege to lighten your burden.” Her gaze softened. “So, please, let me help. Let me in.”  
  
Akakios captured her lips before breathing against them, “I wish I could.” Magic curled around them but, even though the urge to manipulate her memory was there, he didn’t act upon it. She trusted him after so much. He wasn’t about to ruin that trust again. “Please understand.”  
  
Ariana gave him a look he couldn’t decipher but she eventually sighed, giving in. “Alright.” She cupped his cheek as she gave him a peck on the lips. “Just, come talk to be before terrorizing the servants and destroying your furniture.”  
  
He offered her a fond smile. “I’ll see what I can do.”  
  
Ariana grinned and stepped back, taking his hand. “Good. Now, let’s get some sleep. I’m sure it’ll do us both wonders.”  
  
He followed after her but he glanced back at his study, seeing the book he had tossed resting on a chair. He let out a silent breath. It would seem that Magic was not done with him.


	10. Historic/Romance

The car puttered by as he crossed the cobble street. He barely gave a glance to the growing city as he hastened up the front steps into the apartment building. Shaking out his coat and fedora, he slowly made his way up the flights of stairs to his home.  
  
The key stuck in the lock like it usually does. The apartment was dark and cold, just like he left it. He shut and locked the door before he crossed to one of three light sources in the flat. The bulb lit up as fiercely as it could but shadows still remained. He draped his coat over the back of a chair before entering the kitchen. It was tiny but it had a stove and a fridge so he didn’t complain. He pulled water from the tap and put it in a kettle on the stove to boil. It wasn’t till then that he slipped out of his shoes.  
  
Dropping his hat on the coat rack, he made his way to the bedroom, loosening his tie as he went. Flicking on the second light source, he slipped out of his vest before freeing himself of his tie and shirt. He ran a hand over his face, an old gold band glinting in the low light on one of his fingers. Changing completely, he secured the robe around him as he returned as the kettle started to whistle. He cut the gas and moved the kettle. He grabbed a mug from a cupboard and prepped some tea. His motions were habitual and he didn’t pay full attention to what he was doing till after he had settled at the small writing desk. It was cluttered with work but he ignored all of it for a clean sheet of letter paper and a pen. He took a careful swallow of tea before he started writing.  
  
 _March 16th, 1952_  
  
 _I ran another lead dry today. It seems they all are drying up now. The boss thinks it’s been too long but I haven’t lost hope yet. There has to be something that’ll break this case. I just know it._  
  
 _I walked by that flower shop on 6th. It’s under new management and doing well. The new clerk reminds me a lot of you. You two probably would have gotten along._  
  
 _I’ll have to buy you a bundle when I pass it again before I visit._  
  
 _Yours Always_  
  
He folded the short missive and tucked it into an envelope. He settled and finished his tea, gaze on the work before him. As soon as the cup was dry he was standing up and putting the used dish in the sink to wash later. He noted the pile of dishes was growing. He returned for the letter before turning the light off and going to his room. Flicking that light off as well, he reached under the bed with practiced ease and wrapped his hand around a shoe box. Opening it, he tucked the letter in, noting the box was getting full. He made a mental note to get another box tomorrow.


	11. Comedy/Action

“Are you serious?!” He snickered as he ducked behind the decrepit wall, glancing back at the companion currently shouting her head off. “You have to got to be kidding me!!”  
  
“What happened, Anna?” he called out mockingly, not even flinching when a portion of his hiding place was obliterated. “Run out of ammunition?”  
  
“Shut it, Marcus!” she shot back hitting him square in the face with a flip flop. She pointed at him, glaring for all her worth. He was trying very hard not to keel over laughing. “I am not in a good mood to put up with your crap!”  
  
“No, really?” he chimed, charging his gun. “I could have sworn you were in a good mood.”  
  
He ducked the second flip flop as he turned and took aim. Three shots rang out and each hit their target. Downside was that it had drawn everyone’s attention and he had to duck back out of the way.  
  
He was smacked in the face by an arm.  
  
“Will you two behave?” drawled a soft voice to his left. He looked over, rubbing at his forehead. The girl there in pointy hat and star covered cloak had magic swirling around her. She shot him a flat look. “You are drawing unnecessary attention.”  
  
“As long as they don’t let down their guard, they can bicker all they want,” someone near the back countered. He looked to the young woman that was the leader of the small group. She buried her sword in the wall next to his head. She leaned in close, the smoke from her cigarette curling between their faces and brushing against his when she spoke. “Keep me covered and I may consider paying for dinner.”  
  
His eyes brightened. He gave a vicious grin with an equally vicious nod. “You’ve got it.”  
  
The leader yanked out the sword and took off. He rolled out and opened fire, providing cover with the others around him.  
  
They had made it through half the swarm by the time the mage was able to activate the spell. There was a flash, blinding everyone for a few seconds before the light returned to normal. He got up, looking about. Each and every target was taken out. The leader removed her sword from a body, wiping it free of blood.  
  
“Well done, Iris,” the leader called, walking back. “Toris, Pat, status?”  
  
Two bodies landed in the middle of the group, the taller of the pair easily replying, “Compound’s secured. Iris’s spell set up a protective barrier.”  
  
“We’ll be able to chuck bodies out the back,” came the soft reply from the smaller of the pair.  
  
“Good. Get to work.”  
  
He watched the leader walk off as Anna joined him. He looked to her, grinning. “Hey, Anna.” She shot him a glare but didn’t stop him. “Good thing we didn’t _fall apart_.” He laughed as she punched him in the arm. “Hey, don’t hate on me. I didn’t even lose a limb on this one.“  
  
He ducked the fist aimed for his head but went right into the slap to the back of his head. He grinned at her nonetheless.


	12. Western/Fantasy

“Easy partner,” the younger man urged in a soft voice, neither of their gazes wavering from the creature.  
  
The night air was almost still, the faintest of breezes barely detectable. The moon was a sliver in the sky but they didn’t need its light to see the creature.  
  
Pure white and seeming to glow on its own, the creature drank slowly from the river, hooves not even making a sound on the rocks. The younger man shifted closer to the older, asking breathlessly, “What the hell is it doing all the way out here?”  
  
“I don’t know,” the older man grumbled, his face set into a disapproving glare. “But it ain’t supposed to be this far east. Them mountain critters, not prairie.”  
  
The younger looked to the older, touching his arm. “Hey, Chuck, calm down. Maybe it got lost or something. Don’t most migrate at some point?”  
  
“Yeah, but they ain’t suppose to stray from them herd.”  
  
The younger reached for the rope lying nearby. “Then let’s catch it and lead it home.”  
  
A firm hand covered his wrist. “We ain’t suppose to be messin with things like that.”  
  
The younger gave the older a flat look but there was a soft edge to it. “And if we don’t, someone who would only catch it for its horn will. Stay here, if you’d rather, but I’m going to try and take the poor thing home.”  
  
He slowly stepped out of their cover, ignoring the older’s soft calls to come back. He walked slowly over to the creature, his stance relaxed and the rope hanging in clear view. The creature looked up and over at him but didn’t bolt and he gave a soft sigh of relief. He stopped about two yards away, offering in a soft voice. “Hey, buddy. You shouldn’t be this far from home. I want to take you back before something happens to ya. There are some bad people roaming these parts that would kill you in a heartbeat.”  
  
He tensed as the creature started towards him but remained where he was. It came to a stop before him and sniffed at his hair. He shuddered. With trepidation, he raised his hand and rested his fingers on the creature’s neck. The skin twitched underneath but there was no other reaction. He pressed his hand against the skin, rubbing what he could reach as he smiled at the creature. “There’s a good unicorn.” He dragged his hand to the underside of the unicorn’s muzzle as he shifted the rope to the nook of his elbow. He pressed his hand to the top of the unicorn’s muzzle, keeping his hand away from the horn out of respect. “You gonna be ok if I put the rope around your neck? It’s more of a precaution against humans than binding you.”  
  
The unicorn dipped its head and he tensed. He wanted to duck out of the way but the horn tapped against the top of his head anyways and a shiver ran through his body as several things came to his mind that had not been in his knowledge before. He blinked at the creature before him before nodding. “I can do that.”  
  
He turned and started walking back but he kept his hand on the creature’s shoulder. The older man stood up from where he had been watching but didn’t approach and the unicorn made no move to close the distance.  
  
“I’m gonna take him back,” he stated, looking at the older man. “I’m not gonna ask you to come with.”  
  
The older man, still bewildered, chuckled. “Ain’t wanderin this place without ya. I’ma tag along.”  
  
The younger nodded and moved to the horses. The older man cleaned up camp without the younger actually voicing they were leaving right then and there. The younger busied himself with transferring the saddle and bridle from the horse to the unicorn.  
  
“You sure about this?” he asked softly as he carefully slipped the bridle over the horn. The unicorn nodded, bopping him on the head with its horn. He rubbed at the spot but the information was there. He nodded, not questioning the unicorn’s decision after that. Once everything was packed and his horse set to take a number of the items due to no rider, the unicorn turned and started walking, the younger man on his back and the older man following behind, the younger man’s horse between them. The younger man hoped the unicorn’s idea worked.


	13. Sci-fi/Mystery

“Did you hear that?”  
  
He looked over towards the one that had voiced that, not sure if he had even heard the soft spoken words over the hum of the spaceship. His gaze moved to the other in the room, the one situated directly in front of the hallway that the sound had originated from.  
  
It happened again.  
  
It was still startling to watch the other in the room shift so seamlessly and so quickly into something else. The other was a wolf in less than a heartbeat, paws soft on the grating and ears perked forward, most likely hearing better than himself or the one that had spoke.  
  
There was a scream from down the hallway and, by the sound of it, it was a female screaming in mortal terror. The wolf was already shifting as it took off down the hall, quickly becoming some type of hawk. He followed as quickly as he could, the only other in the room following suit.  
  
When they arrived, the hawk was once again a man. He was standing with four other people as another was joining them. He crossed over to the shifter, demanding, “Ophir?”  
  
The shifter shook his head. “There was nothing here and it didn’t occur again for me to follow it.”  
  
One of the people there turned their gaze to him. “Rush, any chance that was something that wasn’t one of the crew.”  
  
He shook his head, his gaze flickering towards the shifter. Ophir shook his head minutely. “No,” he replied, his Scottish accent laying in a tad thick. We would know.”  
  
“Probably,” the other from the room commented, gaining everyone’s attention. The young man shrank back, shrugging. “I mean, in actuality–”  
  
“Eli is right,” Ophir cut in. “Most likely than not, it was one of the crew but there is a chance that something got in here without our knowledge.”  
  
“Let’s hope not,” he muttered. The man that had questioned him glanced towards him. He must have heard his comment.  
  
“Is there a way to lock the ship down and monitor any movement?” the man asked, gaze fully on Ophir.  
  
Ophir glanced at Rush but it was clear that the younger man had only done that out of a habit as he sorted out his thoughts. Rush time and time again always gave into the fact that Ophir knew more about the starship than he did, no matter how much it pained him to acknowledge that.  
  
“I know I can lock the ship down but I don’t know about monitoring movement. I would need five hours.”  
  
“You have two,” the man stated, turning to Rush. “Help him with anything he needed.”  
  
Rush suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. “Of course.”  
  
“Eli,” the man stated to the young man. Said young man jumped slightly at the sudden attention. “Stay out of their way and do as they have you do. If they don’t have anything for you to do, stay close.”  
  
Eli quickly nodded. Ophir shifted his weight. “We done, Colonel?” he asked as politely as he could. Rush understood that. With a time limit that short and what they may or may not have on board was making for a very short amount of time to create a solution.  
  
There was another scream and they all tensed. Again Ophir was a wolf before anyone could register he had shifted. As the echoes of the scream died down, the Colonel looked at Ophir. The wolf shook its head before it became a young man again. “There was too much reverb. I wasn’t able to narrow it down.”  
  
The Colonel nodded. “Get to work. Keep your walkies charged and on Channel 3. Deal with the radio traffic.”  
  
There was a collective nod from the three of them before they turned and took off down the hallway.  
  
Ophir was first to his seat, quickly followed by Eli. Rush was the last, having been the oldest out of the three of them by several decades and not at all in any shape to be running. Still, Rush found that Ophir had already displayed things at the terminal Rush was working on and Rush merely settled down to work through it. Ophir must have done the same for Eli because it hadn’t been 5 minutes before Rush realized that Eli was being surprisingly quiet. Sure enough, a glance over revealed that the math wiz was frowning intently at his screen.  
  
There was a hiss and Rush jumped, looking back. Doors he didn’t even know existed were sliding shut over the hallway behind him. He felt more protected and more vulnerable at the same time. Returning his gaze to his screen, he navigated through till he had what he wanted. He didn’t even look at Ophir as he asked, “Did you just happen to find this?”  
  
“Surprisingly,” Ophir, typing away as he did something. “It had been a discovery a couple weeks back. I couldn’t index it at the time nor was it indexed in a way I could understand so it look me longer than I would have liked to have been able to lock the ship down.”  
  
Rush returned his gaze to his computer. “And the movement algorithm?”  
  
“Almost done,” Eli piped in, his face still scrunched in concentration. “Just a few more minutes.”  
  
Rush turned his gaze towards Ophir. “What is the plan, then?”  
  
Ophir shrugged. “Depends on what we’re up against.” He reached out and turned off his walkie talkie. He gave Rush a pointed look and the older scientist did the same. There was a brief tap of buttons and the entire core went dark excluding a few lights to allow them to see. “There were two voices during the second scream. One from the left and one from the right. Unique but similar enough to blend well to the human ear. Whatever we’re dealing with isn’t one of the crew and I fear for what it may actually be.”


	14. Slice of Life/Tragedy

He came to in a body that would no longer work properly and he hated it. He hated every morning he had to get up in a body that could not function without assistance and he hated the fact that Bruce was forced to take care of him. He knew that Bruce didn’t care, that Bruce was more than happy to help him. Heck, the man had married him after he had started being unable to walk and he had wanted to punch Bruce in the face for doing such a thing but he couldn’t. Bruce loved him and for as much as he resented himself and what the world had dealt him, he loved Bruce and wouldn’t trade anything to change what he had.  
  
He rolled over, though even that was becoming difficult. Bruce woke at the movement, blue eyes blinking away sleep in a way that made him wish he could do that with his disease. Bruce gave his a soft smile, eyes seemingly forever kind and compassionate, never pitying. Bruce reached out, running fingers through his most likely oily hair. “Good morning.”  
  
“Morning,” he muttered back, wanting to cringe at how crackly his voice was.  
  
Bruce didn’t comment as he helped him get propped up against the pillows. Reaching over for the glass on the nightstand, Bruce helped him drink some water, soothing the rawness in his throat. Bruce set the glass aside, asking, “Ready for today?”  
  
He gave Bruce a glare but there was a smile tugging at his lips. “You know the answer to that. Hasn’t changed from yesterday.”  
  
Bruce rolled his eyes but the smirk on his face showed his pleasure at the humor. “Yes, but yesterday was not today. Today, you and I are going on a date.”  
  
He chuckled. “Bruce, we’re already married. We don’t have to go on dates anymore.”  
  
“Nonsense,” Bruce commented as he got out of his side of the bed. “I am going on every date I can with you because life is fleeting and because I want to.”  
  
He watched Bruce prep the wheelchair, knowing full well that Bruce was not doing this because of the illness. Bruce was actually rather selfish about the matter and wanted as much time he could get out of him. That was one of the reasons why he had said yes to Bruce. Bruce was spending time with him and tending him because Bruce wanted to. Bruce wanted to have all the time he could get out of him because Bruce was in love and believed that is what you do with loved ones with an unknown death date hanging over their head.  
  
“Bathroom first or breakfast?” Bruce asked, cutting through his thinking.  
  
“Breakfast,” he replied. Bruce yanked back the covers. He made a face and changed his mind. “Actually, bathroom. I reek.”  
  
Bruce sniffed a pit and made a face. “Same.”  
  
He chuckled, shaking his head. Bruce seemed to always know when his mind went somewhere it probably shouldn’t, specifically to his own mortality and Bruce’s love and loyalty to him. There was a warm hand suddenly on his cheek as Bruce directed his gaze back to himself.  
  
“Hey, we really don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” he offered, gaze full of nothing but honest concern. “Netflix is an amazing thing. We’re still binging Once, after all.”  
  
Touched at the thought, he shook his head, stating, “I’m looking forward to the date. Just, don’t feel up to much else.”  
  
Bruce nodded and slipped his arms under his knees and behind his shoulder blades. “Then let’s get the bath taken care of first. A good soak will help.”  
  
Bruce was infinitely strong. No matter the years that seem to pass, Bruce is still able to pick him up without strain and carry him anywhere.  
  
A small part of him prayed that Bruce never got tired of him.  
  
There was a ringing in his ear and he found himself coming to on what looked like a sidewalk. His head hurt and his brain was foggy. He was pretty certain that he was missing what had happened when the last thing he was remembering was going towards a bath. Was it still the same day? Had he and Bruce just left their home?  
  
It was clear there had been a major accident. He could see the numerous cars damaged by whatever had happened.  
  
He was exhausted. But he had to find Bruce. He had to find his husband.  
  
He didn’t have to look hard. Bruce was within reach near his head. All he had to do was move his arm. But there was no way and it was getting harder and harder to stay awake.  
  
He woke again, though a part of him was rather saddened at that. Confusion rushed through him as he realized that what he was seeing was not a hospital room and it swiftly changed into panic. But someone was there, someone was talking, and a part of him was very startled to see Bruce standing beside him, voice low and soft and gaze forever kind but there was something wrong, something off.  
  
He jerked away from Bruce as the man reached towards him. But the motion was followed by more than just what he had gotten used to reacting with and he found – to his utter amazement – his fist catching Bruce in the chin, the momentum throwing him off the bed. Legs and arms worked and he shoved himself back, staring at appendages that should not be working so well that appeared so healthy and young.  
  
He tensed, looking to Bruce. Bruce was younger, almost the same age the first time they had met. As panic settled in his chest again and he felt like he couldn’t breathe, this wrong-Bruce stepped slowly forward, uttering in his low voice, “Easy, Michael. You’ve been in a coma. What you’ve just lived through was just a dream.”  
  
He choked. “….What?”


	15. Drama/Horror

The actress on stage shouted some line as the power went out and every phone in the place lit up, all giving that same tone that many were familiar with. But those that had turned off the amber or weather alerts were confused that their phones were going off as well. Even the actors on stage were confused as a stagehand came out to tell them to hang tight with a flash light.  
  
It was about the time the stagehand was leaving that an uproar broke out in the audience. There was mass confusion and a mad shuffle. There was a sound, high and loud, that made the entire audience flinch. A voice quickly followed the noise.  
  
 _”Ladies and gentlemen, cast and crew, may I have your attention please. This is the Stage Manager speaking. Can I have all audience members returning to their seats and all cast and crew to make their way onto the stage.”_  
  
A murmur rolled through the audience as ushers worked to secure the exits as actors and crew appeared on stage. A few crew moved about to help ushers. The stage manager stepped out of the booth and crossed to center stage, a microphone in hand. They stood before the audience and gave them a grave look. “Everyone, please remain calm. The announcement we all received is true.” There was a flurry of voices and activity but the stage manager took a step forward and bellowed out in a stern voice that had cast and crew instinctively cringe in fear, “Please remain seated and calm.” The audience quieted down and people returned to their seats. The cast and crew were starting to sit anywhere they could on stage, the majority taking the floor. Some of the crew were stepping off stage to be aisle monitors with the ushers. “I have been asked to keep all here within the confines of the theatre due to it being far safer than allowing you all to attempt to traverse the chaos outside those doors.” There was a heavy silence as the stage manager lost their momentum briefly. Taking a deep breath, they continued, “The wifi is still up if you need it so please contact loved ones. Please be aware that a lot of people are going to be using the internet and cell towers so you may not be able to make it through. We will do our best to help you feel comfortable in what time remains.”  
  
The microphone was turned off and chaos ensued. Thankfully, the audience listened to the stage manager and remained seated but people started crying, shouting, arguing, and just plain talking. The noise level got pretty high but no one cared. The stage manager gave the cast and crew 15 minutes before they were expected back in the theatre with their things and helping to keep the audience contained so that those in the house as well as ushers could have a chance to grab their things and gather in the theatre.  
  
When everyone was once more consolidated in the single space, the stage manager took center stage with more information.  
  
“I have some more information,” they spoke over the noise into the microphone. The crowd quieted. “They don’t know how or why, but the amount of time that they had anticipated has diminished drastically. We are now looking at a maximum of 4 hours. They are asking people not to travel and we’re going to enforce that. We will, however, be doing bathroom runs now in groups of five with chaperones from the cast and crew. Please be respectful and heed their words. They are getting their information from me directly through headset so if we need people to come back, then we can alert you quickly and safely. Thank you.”  
  
The microphone was turned off for the last time and people began to come to terms with the fact that this was it. There was nothing more that could be done. Sure enough, four hours later and with very little information, there was a noise outside the theatre and a hush fell over the room. People pushed together, scared but prepared.  
  
The doors burst open and a good number of people screamed as there was a mad scramble to flee but no one got anywhere fast. By the time silence had fallen, each and every living being was dead.


	16. Reflection

It was late. So late in fact that the clock had rolled over into the new day, turning “late” into “early”. He glared at the offensive device that was seeming to mock him with the new hour. He knew he should have gone to bed hours ago but he had been feeling as if the day just wasn’t long enough.  
  
That, or he was being left behind by time.  
  
That was a scary thought, one that he tried to avoid. He didn’t like being left behind in general and all of the sudden time was leaving him behind too?! He stomped on the thought and focused on the task at hand, glancing at the word count as he went.  
  
He was going to regret this come his alarm going off.  
  
He would probably be fine once it passed three.  
  
Exhaustion pulled at his eyes, making it hard for him to focus on the screen before him. There was a reason why the clock was mocking him with the time. He hadn’t been sleeping well the last few days - heck, could even be weeks for all he could remember - and it was catching up on him. He had tried quite a lot in an attempt to not be quite as exhausted but the one thing that would benefit him the most would be actually waking up later in the day. Work didn’t start till the afternoon but a part of him still insisted waking up at 7. How could he not? The shift he worked make him feel unproductive with the rest of his day. He had a hard time doing anything when he got home and that included eating and he was already bad at making sure he kept himself fed.  
  
He groaned, dropping his fingers from the keyboard. He lulled his head to the side, looking at the clock again. It seemed, at least, that at night time only got away from him when he was busy. Pity, really, because he seemed to be constantly busy. So much to do in so little time.  
  
He straightened and rubbed a hand over his eyes, determination settling over his tired expression. He could do this. He just had to finish this one small thing and then he could go to bed. It wouldn’t be much sleep but it would be enough.  
  
He would still be exhausted.  
  
Maybe he could catch up on sleep on Friday seeing as it was his day off.  
  
Yeah, he had intended that for the previous Saturday and look where that had gotten him. Working well into the wee hours of the morning.


	17. Mask

It was simple in design. The black paint started at a point near the center top, expanding as it came down the left side to encompass the eye before condensing back to a point near the center bottom. Around the other eye was a circle of black, large enough to mask the ridge of the cheek and eyebrow. The mouth was made to look like an unnatural grin coming to points rather than soft curves. In it’s simplicity it was meant to be disconcerting and creepy.  
  
It was.  
  
No matter who wore it or possessed it, they were always known as Fate; they were a branch of an entity most mortals cannot understand. The complexity of just the role of Fate was too much for many, leaving so few to retain the mask and the role.  
  
There were a select few that never got that choice.  
  
She was one of them.  
  
With a sigh, she pulled the mask over her face, catching the phantom of Fate out of the corner of her eye as she did so.  
  
 _“You do realize that the mask is now officially pointless,”_ he pointed out, his voice sounding slightly echoy in her head.  
  
She shrugged, returning with, “It helps put his mind at ease.”  
  
Fate hummed in acknowledgement as she donned the attire connected with Fate. As blatantly of a lie as it was, Fate had to agree that it was easier when the parental units and any others they were working with distanced her from him. They tended to not be quite so hesitant nor so worried.  
  
She stepped out of the room, gaining everyone’s attention.  
  
Even after so long exposed to the mask, many shrank away from the sight of it. The frozen grin hid her expression and it made it easy to appear to be watching one thing while truly watching another. Additionally, it had come to be an enjoyment of theirs to freak people out just by turning the mask towards them without any other indicator they are paying attention. The way they bristle is hilarious. What made it even funnier was that many equated the paint on the mask to represent the yin-yang symbol.  
  
They both believed it was more like a target than anything else.  
  
The explosion rocked the room, sending debris and bodies everywhere. She moved forward, away from those that she cared about, and the attacker’s attention was on her masked face in an instant. She dodged one attack, then another. Sometimes those that came after them had been broken in some aspect and were blaming the mask for their problems.  
  
The scariest were those that saw going up against the mask of Fate to be a challenge.


	18. Curse

Kepler shuddered, curling farther in on himself as the sounds of his pursuers dissipated. He had never asked for this.  
  
He nearly jumped out of his clothing when a hand touched his arm. “Kepler.”  
  
The small skeleton tensed, frightened and ready to run. Squatting before him was his dad with an expression full of concern.  
  
“Easy, baby bones,” his dad spoke softly, his gruff, deep voice an octave lower. It was soothing and familiar. “It’s just me.”  
  
“W-why are you here?” he asked, stuttering over his words in his fright. This time he didn’t flinch away when his dad touched him and the rounder skeleton quickly pulled him into a tight hug. There was the sense of the world dropping out from under them briefly before they were in the living room. Kepler sagged against his dad.  
  
“Your teacher overheard the commotion and called.” The air got thick. “Kep, I need to look you over.”  
  
Kepler shook his head. His dad leaned back, magic breaking Kepler’s grip with the utmost gentleness.  
  
“Please, Kep. For my peace of mind.”  
  
Kepler curled in on himself, knowing that if he took the clothing off his torso, his dad would get mad.But his dad’s hands were soft and coaxing and before Kepler knew it, he was sitting in the living room topless. His ribs were as they always were; a giant birth defect left parts of his rib cage unformed, leaving an opening that went from the upper right to the lower left over where his purple soul resided visible at the center. Kepler watched his dad’s attention go to the markings on his son’s bones.  
  
Kepler shuddered. While skeletons didn’t bruise, there were still hairline fractures and chipped and scuffed bones. Kepler couldn’t help wrapping his arms around himself, trying and failing to hide the worst of the evidence.  
  
“Kepler.” He flinched at his dad’s voice. He glanced up at his dad, wary. His dad was texting quickly before pocketing the phone. “How did this happen?”  
  
Kepler shook his head. A door upstairs opened and closed.  
  
“Kepler, please.”  
  
Kepler curled tighter into himself before he felt his uncle’s healing magic curling around him. Kepler relaxed, noting that his uncle’s appearance explained the text. Comforted by having his uncle there as silent support, Kepler offered, “I never asked to be cursed like this, unable to do the things they do and treated differently because of it.”  
  
His dad’s expression turned sad and Kepler almost took back his words. Almost. His dad and uncle had tried saving his life when he was born but it had left Kepler with several birth defects. The teachers had no choice but to accommodate Kepler; a skeleton that was unable to wield magic beyond what held him together, blind in the right eye, and fragile. But calling it all a curse was something that hit a little too close to home for his dad, even if this was only the second time he had called it all a curse.


	19. Fear

He was standing on stage singing a lame karaoke song his coworkers had picked. It was surprisingly fitting as he sung it for the dark haired man sitting alone near their table. Those blue eyes held his own gaze for the entire song and he ignored the catcalls and chatter when he walked passed his table to talk with the blue eyed stranger.  
  
He finds himself going on a date with the blue eyed stranger a week later after they end up chatting through karaoke night. He finds out the man’s filthy rich and is the owner of the building he and his coworkers are constructing. He finds that he doesn’t care.  
  
Somewhere along the way, six months pass without him being aware of it. He and the blue eyed man are hanging out as regularly as their schedules permit. He gets a phone call that sends ice through his veins and he rushes to the hospital. The blue eyed man is there and all he can do is wrap the other man up in his arms and hold on tight as they wait for news. It’s not good and he’s silently impressed when the blue eyed man doesn’t break down till they’re in the blue eyed man’s car.  
  
They fought the following day. The blue eyed man broke it off.  
  
He didn’t see the blue eyed man for two months.  
  
They run into each other out of happenstance and he finds it easy to break the ice between them, getting the blue eyed man to laugh and smile.  
  
They go out the following evening and agree to start dating again. Three months later, he moves in.  
  
Somehow a year and a half passes and he’s finding it really hard to hide his growing symptoms from his lover. The stress of the symptoms and his looming death date that he had been trying to hide from his lover were causing him to be short.  
  
His lover confronts him about it.  
  
He doesn’t remember the words he had said but he knew they had been blows beneath the belt.  
  
He went to a hotel for a week.  
  
His lover took him on a surprise trip when he returned and they had the conversation he had been dreading with ease.  
  
He said yes when his lover proposed three months later.  
  
He woke up in a body that no longer worked as it once had five years later. His husband was there, always caring and ready to help him. He loved his husband and felt it was inadequate to how much his husband loved him.  
  
He died that day in a freak accident with his husband. But, yet, he woke up in a space he didn’t recognize and a body that reacted in a way he had forgotten was possible. He found himself pressed up against a cabinet as he tried to grasp the fact that his husband was a blue eyed stranger ten years younger and without the memories he now had.


End file.
